Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Walter remains on the bridge of the Covenant, giving Daniels and Tennessee whatever time they need after the events that have just concluded. The synthetic passes his own time by scouring surveillance of every inch of the ship several times over, deft fingers of even just his one remaining hand swiftly moving over buttons and controls while his ocular sensors scan for any sort of irregularity that may indicate more danger.

It’s over, for certain now, it has to be, and yet…

He realizes that these actions are akin to the very human instinctual thought process known as paranoia.

Before he can dwell on that, however, he catches Daniels out of her space gear and moving his way on the cameras with a brisk gait.

He turns in his seat to watch her enter, a serious expression on her face, eyes damp with unfallen tears. She hesitates for precisely 1.758 seconds before she strides the rest of the way to him and throws herself on him, arms draped over his shoulders and her face buried against the side of his neck. She shudders as he wraps his own arms around her tightly in response.

She isn’t sobbing and wailing like earlier, just sniffling and trembling. Walter isn’t sure how much rest she had gotten after seeing her off hours ago, but she still must be impossibly tired. Even as a synthetic, he’s pretty certain he himself can almost understand what tired truly means now.

“I was afraid for you again, Danny,” he finds himself admitting, denying whatever part of him is telling him it’s inappropriate and should not be possible.

Daniels does not respond to that, but Walter doesn’t take it to mean anything. The woman heaves a sigh, the trembling stops, and then her body sags on him. “When will this end?” she asks numbly, lips murmuring against the once-again dampened fabric over his shoulder. “I’m so sick of it.”

“Hopefully it already has, though regrettably I cannot make that a promise.” He pauses briefly, sorry that he has to say his next words. “I will clean up the bodies of Ricks, Upworth, and Lopé… You and Tennessee should further rest.”

“How the hell are we supposed to do that?” Daniels asks then, bitter and angry and simultaneously defeated. Walter knows the negative emotions aren’t towards him, though.

“I wish more than anything I had an answer for you. I wish I could take this all away from you.” He rests his stapled cheek against the top of her head.

Daniels’ hardened expression softens at that, lifting her head and looking at Walter with what could very well be all the fondness and hope she might have left in herself to give. “You wish.” The corners of her lips are upturned, proud.

Walter realizes the significance of her emphasis of the words, and he chooses not to backtrack, not to negate it. “I do. I wish,” he confirms with a solemn nod. “I… want.”

An awkward, breathy laugh leaves Daniels’ mouth. She lifts a hand to stroke gently through his combed hair, down across his stapled cheek again, then she brushes a thumb over his lower lip. He only gazes at her face-on during all this. He may want, but he isn’t going to take, not after how they decided to part earlier.

“Yeah… Clean them up,” she says quietly next, hating it, sick about it. Walter can tell she wants to offer to help him do so, but knows he should go through the process alone, especially since, “We still aren't sure how David’s goddamned pathogen or parasite or whatever the actual fuck it is really spreads… So.” She collects her rage and gives a subtle, defeated shrug. Her meaning is clear: Whatever it is, being a synthetic being, there’s no way Walter can contract it.

Walter nods. Dutifully. Prepared to complete what would be a daunting task for a human, no doubt. It’s something no human should ever have to do, especially not for their lost friends.

Daniels is looking him intently in the eyes. “I’ll be in my quarters. I can’t—don’t want to be alone, and I know there’s Tennessee, but I think he really needs his space right now. I…”

Walter hadn’t expected her invitation. He waits for her to say whatever else she has to say.

“I need you,” she finishes.

Walter nods once more. “You have me,” he replies resolutely.

Daniels seems to like that reply, and she gives him one last stroke of the cheek before backing away from his comforting grasp. “I’m glad,” she says, and then she hesitates slightly, but ultimately disappears out the bridge to head back to her quarters.

—

Standing by the airlock, Walter is now in fresh gray sweats after shedding his hazmat suit that was coated with blood, reeking of bleach and other cleaning products and death. At least he has the ability to turn off his olfactory sensors.

He ejects Lopé first, respectfully saluting the Sergeant upon his departure, then fits Ricks and Upworth bound together into the airlock next. They were husband and wife, they died together, they should certainly be ‘buried’ together. Walter thinks that’s probably what any human would have told him, and he feels confident about the choice as he watches them float aimlessly away, wrapped tight in tarps connected closely with several ropes.

“To all the good people, gone too soon. May we remember them,” Walter says very quietly to himself, copying what Tennessee had said when they held Captain Branson’s ‘funeral’ in the same manner not so long ago. There is no shot of whiskey to go with it this time, but of course Walter alone doesn’t need one.

Cleaning up the med bay and the communal showers, hoisting all three mangled bodies from the floor and into bags while being mindful to respect their dignity as best as he could, then sending them out into the peaceful quiet of deep space to forever rest had been quite the task. He’s only happy to have completed said task so Daniels and Tennessee need not even think about doing it.

Ledward, Faris, Karine, Hallett, Ankor, Rosenthal, Oram, and Cole deserve some sort of memorial of their own as well after being lost down on that godforsaken planet, Walter is sure. Daniels and Tennessee will most certainly want that for them, too. For now, however, physical and mental recovery in the supposed safety and peace of the Covenant should be required first before they even attempt to work that out.

He next makes quick use of the cameras only he and Mother have access to of the crew’s quarters to make sure both of them are comfortably asleep, at least in a way that meets the eye. He made a commitment to Daniels, however. She is lying still in her bed at this moment, and Walter would hate to wake her if she’s really sleeping yet, but he would hate even more to let her down.

—

The synthetic could recite his security override code to enter Daniels’ quarters by himself, but he knows what common decency is, and so he rings her entry bell with a press of his hand instead.

The door slides open not long after, revealing her weary form, and immediately Walter is saying, “I’m sorry if I just woke y—”

“Oh, you didn’t,” Daniels interrupts, shaking her head and then biting her lower lip.

Walter only looks at her for a short moment, frowning, before he speaks again. “Do you still, as you said, need me?” he ventures.

If she has changed her mind and tells him she doesn’t, he will bid her a good sleep and leave either to go to his own plain quarters or to start his rounds again early, simple as that. He just couldn’t come here and not give her the opportunity to decline him, if the opposite is what she wants. She asked him earlier, and he will comply, but he must be sure.

He hopes, he wishes, he wants, too.

Daniels nods, just before she latches onto him again for the third time within twelve hours. It’s something he would prefer to get used to, if only under better circumstances, although maybe he shouldn’t. The latter thought is easily shoved away, though.

“I do. I need you,” she confirms, repeating the words from earlier, breathless, still hugging him. “Come to the bed with me, please?”

She’s already on the move, and Walter doesn’t dare protest as he allows her to lead him into her quarters by his hand. She doesn’t let go of it as she goes to lie down, and he follows suit. Nestling beneath the sheets, they end up spooning with Walter as the big spoon, and Daniels swaps to hold his handless wrist tightly to her chest while its adjoined arm is draped over her.

“Is this okay?” Walter asks, “You’re comfortable?”

He wonders if she would rather they flip sides so she could actually have fingers to twine hers with while in this position, but he leaves it be, knowing she would say so for herself. Perhaps she likes that it is a reminder of his dedication, his protection over her, an idea Walter silently comes up with because he finds he likes the idea of it as well.

She hums her approval to his question. “I just know I’m going to have nightmares, though. If I even manage to fall asleep. I’d rather be sleepless than experience anything my brain creates for itself right now.”

“I’ll pull you out of them as soon as I sense a spike in your vitals,” Walter promises. “Please try to relax, get some rest, even if you don’t sleep. I’ve got you, Danny.”

Daniels shifts slightly in his arms and cranes her neck to look back at him over her shoulder. Their faces are so close. Her breath hitches. She very briefly glances down at his lips.

Walter will still refrain from kissing her, despite his wanting, but he does lean to press his forehead to hers. Their eyes both flutter shut as they hold the position for a long moment, then Daniels shifts back around.

“Thank you, Walter,” she near-whispers. “You make me feel so safe, you really do.”

“I’ll never let you down,” Walter begins softly—

—and they finish together again, “No matter what.”

He cannot see her face, but Walter is pretty sure he could audibly detect Daniels smiling with the words. It makes Walter smile, too. He tugs her body even closer against his own, tight and secure.

Loving.

Chapter Text

Unfortunately, as the hours pass by, it’s apparent Daniels had been correct in assuming she would get no real sleep. When she does fall asleep, Walter has to wake her not long after when he senses a potential bad dream starting. Each time, she confirms he’s correct. They embrace in several other positions over time, Walter accommodating to whatever Daniels deems comfortable, but the nightmares still seep in, to Walter’s disappointment.

During these intervals, when he’s not actively worrying over Daniels, Walter takes the time to reflect.

What reason does he have for doing this? It’s not merely duty, it’s something more; that’s already been established with the kiss they shared. David mentioned love, insisting it’s what Walter has for Daniels. Is that what this is? Walter can’t decide if he hopes so, or not. The way David ‘loved’ is not the way Walter wants to. The synthetic is conflicted.

But then, finally, finally, Walter senses Daniels drift off one last time. He braces himself to pull her from her terrors, and is relieved when they don’t seem to come. The exhaustion must have gotten through to her subconscious at last. Walter revels in the now consistent, comfortable slowness of her heart and respiratory rates.

In a way, closely monitoring Daniels’ soothingly-patterned vitals becomes Walter’s own form of ‘sleep.’

Daniels wakes on her own three hours, twenty-one minutes and fourteen seconds later. While for her sake Walter would have liked for it to have been longer, he’ll accept it. She’s at least been lying down for close to a full eight hours.

“What time’s it?” she mumbles, knowing he’s ‘awake’ to answer.

“Half past nine bells,” Walter readily replies to the back of her head.

“Good enough.” Slowly rising up out of his arms into a sitting position in the bed, Daniels stretches and groans. She comments, “Not terribly out of whack from the schedule we should be starting on. Let’s… get up, I guess.”

Walter remains lying down for a moment, watching her stretch, one corner of his lip lifted in a small, amused sneer. Daniels is already thinking of getting back to work. That’s on point for the woman he so admires.

“Mother, where is Tennessee?” she asks toward the ceiling.

“Tennessee is in the ship’s main kitchen,” comes the monotone response.

Walter sits up next to her then, offering, “I can cook breakfast for you both, if he’s not already on it.”

Daniels smiles over at him, and Walter enjoys actually seeing it this time. Their bodies are still touching close together. She leans to bump her head against his shoulder affectionately before she proceeds to slide from the bed.

“I’d really like that,” she tells him. “Your cooking’s amazing.”

—

When they make it to the kitchen, Tennessee is staring into the massive walk-in freezer, still in sleepwear just as Walter and Daniels are. Walter has enough knowledge of popular fiction to decide the man appears rather, well, zombified.

“Um, Tee…?” Daniels questions carefully, tilting her head.

“There y’all are,” the man replies suddenly, willing himself to appear a bit more awake after rubbing his scruffy face. He manages to smirk over at them, a certain glint in his eye of which Walter is unsure of the meaning. “So I was thinkin’ just somethin’ like… soup for breakfast? Sounds weird, but I don’t know what I’m really capable of stomaching today.”

“Please, allow me,” Walter says, politely stepping past Tennessee to enter the freezer.

Its contents are fully inventoried in his programming, enough for the full main crew to have plenty of meals when coming out of hypersleep for recharge breaks. There are ready-made soups to prepare in minutes, but with significantly less crew to feed now, Walter’s concerns about rationing resources have diminished proportionately and he has decided the remaining two need a more authentically-cooked meal. As authentic as being sent across deep space for years allows for, anyway.

He chooses chicken to thaw, broth to heat up, and noodles to cook. Once those processes are in order, he looks to Tennessee and Daniels both. “I’ll be back soon from the Hydroponics sector.”

“Walter, hold on now,” Tennessee speaks up. “This ain’t necessary. The soups in the freezer should be fine—”

“Tee,” Daniels clutches the pilot’s shoulder, gently scolding. “Let him do this.”

Walter pauses, now wondering if he is actually doing something incorrect. He glances between them with uncertainty.

Tennessee tuts his tongue and smirks again. “Nah, never mind. Go on, bud.”

Walter nods and carries on through the kitchen’s exit.

—

He returns with fresh carrots, celery, and some light herbs in hand, then promptly gets to work chopping them up. Working as efficiently as possible, he’s doing his best to make up for the extra time preparing this meal takes in comparison to simply microwaving the ready-made ones.

Tennessee and Daniels are sitting at a table with cups of coffee in front of them that they made while he was gone, conversing quietly between themselves. Walter tunes down his audio pickup range to give them privacy if they need it. He tunes it back up once the food is done and he’s bringing over their bowls with the spoons set into them.

“—or yourself, too?” He catches the tail end of Tennessee’s question, directed at him.

Walter blinks. “I’m sorry, could you repeat that?”

“Did ya make enough for yourself, too?”

“Oh.” He gently sets down each of their bowls in front of them on the table. “I made enough for seconds, if you would like, but…”

Daniels looks up at him and pats the empty chair next to her. “C’mon, eat with us.”

“You know it does nothing for me, Danny.” That’s what he says at first, then he realizes he can’t let her down. “But today, I will.”

That earns Walter another Danny-smile to his delight. Unfailingly, Walter also smiles.

He also detects that curious glint in Tennessee’s eye again that he still won’t question.

—

They finish off all the soup, both Daniels and Tennessee having helped themselves to seconds. The soup was satisfactory, according to Walter’s taste receptors, but he was incapable of a reading past that. Daniels and Tennessee both assured him the soup was in fact ‘phenomenal.’ For space food at least. Walter is intended to be an excellent cook for his crew, so it’s no surprise, but he still lets them know he is grateful for their verbal approval.

“So,” Tennessee breaks the comfortable silence they had settled into, “I wish I could take a shower, I really fuckin’ stink, but…”

“It’s alright. I have cleaned the communal showers,” Walter states.

The man chuckles a bit darkly. “Thanks, Walter, that is much appreciated and I mean that, but I was also thinkin’ I’m kinda scared to ever shower again now, to be honest.”

Walter does not know how to respond to this, but Daniels chimes in.

“We’ll just have to brave it. Walter and Mother can always monitor for movement on the ship like before. We just… won’t blast music while we’re in there.”

“Dumb kids and their stupid sex music,” Tennessee scoffs bitterly under his breath, shaking his head.

Daniels gives him a look, then sadly shakes her head as well.

This subtle interaction helps Walter realize. It has been an unclear mystery to the synthetic why Ricks and Upworth didn’t seem to react to Mother’s warnings before they fell victim. Now it makes sense.

“If you both want to wash up now, I’ll head to the bridge again,” Walter offers.

The trio all nod in agreement before standing to put their bowls and spoons in the large dishwasher meant for at least quadruple times the amount of dishes than only three.

—

Day cycles pass while the trio has been working diligently together to ensure the ship is ready to resume its course toward Origae-6. And by now, their concerns of any more unidentified life forms has decreased to almost none.

(One can never be too optimistic ever again, really.)

You’d know by now, Walter internally recalls David’s voice much to his chagrin.

Walter has been joining Daniels in her bed every cycle, still doing nothing more than holding and comforting her. He never minds doing it. He looks forward to it, the pleasant parts about it at least.

The three prepare a message for Walter to send back to reach Earth in 1.36 years. The detour the Covenant took will be a secret between them to take to their graves. The Company can’t learn of that planet; they all know they’ll only send more people there. Daniels and Tennessee know such out of cynicism; Walter knows such for fact because he is The Company’s creation.

The loss of the crew will simply be explained by more malfunctioning sleep pods in the solar flare incident. Walter is supposed to be incapable of lying, but to protect another mission and perhaps the human race itself, apparently lying does become possible even if it’s to his own creators.

Before he sends the message out, he goes to help Tennessee and Daniels enter their hypersleep pods.

“I’ll go under first,” Tennessee is quick to volunteer. He and Daniels share what is perhaps a knowing glance, nodding at each other, the meaning of which Walter can’t decipher.

Once Tennessee is sleeping soundly, his vitals shown to be stable, Daniels turns from his pod toward where Walter is waiting by her open one.

“You’re next, Captain,” Walter says, his lips upturned slightly.

She nods, giving him a small smile in return, tears welling in her eyes as she walks over.

Walter only observes her as he waits, unsure what to do or say now.

Instead of settling into her pod right away, Daniels approaches him, stopping mere inches from him. “This sounds pathetic, but I wish you could fit in there with me.” She caresses his cheek which is almost done ‘healing.’

Walter leans into the touch. “The ship needs me out here, though,” he replies logically.

“Well, what if I’m selfish, and I say I need you more?”

It’s said to him playfully, and then she goes ahead and puts on her sleep cap and lies down in the pod, which clues him in on how she wasn’t completely serious.

He lets his warm smile widen. “When you wake up, we’ll be at Origae-6. Then you can have me,” he playfully offers back.

“What do you think it’s gonna be like?” she asks more seriously.

Walter averts his gaze and stares away from her briefly, thoughtful, then says, “I think if we are kind…” He looks back down at her in the pod. “It will be a kind world.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“Sleep well.”

Walter presses the button to close the pod, before their goodbyes drag on for too long.

He’s a bit surprised when Daniels taps on the glass from within to get his attention. “Walter?” It seems she has a last minute thought for him.

He kneels down for her, letting her know he’s listening.

“When we get there, will you help me build my cabin?” Her eyes are so hopeful, Walter briefly wonders how he could have any other choice, although he would never wish for another.

“The cabin on the lake,” he voices his realization right away, remembering the fond and hopeful way she spoke of it before.

She clutches where the mine shaft nail around her neck is buried under her white sleep suit and grins at him brightly, nodding.

“I would be honored to, Danny,” he tells her warmly, gently grinning himself. “I promise I will.”

“No matter what,” they both say after a beat, because the first part Walter doesn’t even need to say this time; it’s already well understood between them.

She lets out a soft giggle then, likely a bit loopy now from the narcotic gas taking effect. She minds not the way Walter lets his fond expression be the final thing she sees.

Undoubtedly satisfied, Walter is happy to watch her peacefully drift off with yet another smile on her face. A smile that’s for him. Moments carry on, and he doesn’t want to stop watching her, looking after her like he has every other time she’s slept lately…

But there is work to be done. A message to be sent, his rounds to be resumed.

And now, blueprints for him to study closely.